


God, His Hands

by apartment



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 20:33:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15008891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apartment/pseuds/apartment
Summary: Magnus is exhausted after a fight, and while Alec can’t heal him, he helps by giving him a massage. And then he gives him amassage.Magnus closes his eyes, leaning into Alec’s hand where it’s brushing against his cheek softly. Alec’s thumb finds Magnus’ lips, grazing them so lightly that it elicits a small shiver. They’re quiet.Then: “I wish I could heal you,” Alec whispers.Magnus’ eyes flicker open, and he looks at Alec pensively. The Shadowhunter’s mouth is twisted, like he’s both unhappy at the situation and self-conscious about his admission.“So do I,” Magnus offers, and Alec’s lips turn upwards again.





	God, His Hands

**Author's Note:**

> idk, this fic came out of nowhere
> 
> i swear, it's the ones that sneak up on you that end up being the most devastating

Magnus groans, tired and sore. His shoulders ache, his back aches, his arms ache, and every muscle from his thighs down is screaming at him with each step.

His magic has healed him all it can for now. In the morning, he’ll be able to alleviate the rest of his soreness, but until then, he can’t risk knitting his muscles back together too quickly.

He limps lightly into his loft, trying to walk as delicately as possible to reduce the pressure on his trembling thighs.

With a flick of his wrist, Magnus changes his clothes into a more comfortable outfit of a sweatshirt and pants. He magicks his makeup off and lets his hair down from where it had been spiked up—his entire look had been mussed anyway, after the fighting. His hair flops onto his forehead pathetically. Magnus sighs.

Alec is here, he already knows. His wards alerted him to that fact much earlier in the day. The Shadowhunter is resting on the sofa, and his head pops up now as he looks towards the door, obviously wondering why Magnus is so quiet.

Alec’s eyebrows furrow in concern when he takes in Magnus’ appearance. Magnus figures he must look bedraggled, dressed in sweats and walking like he’s on glass.

“Hey,” he says, managing a weak smile.

“Magnus? Are you okay?” Alec asks. He approaches, looking Magnus over for injuries.

There are none. No blood or cuts remaining. “Fine,” Magnus says, trying to wave him off, but Alec isn’t deterred. He’s been around war his entire life and knows when people are carrying themselves with pain.

“What happened?” Alec asks, and Magnus sighs.

“Come on,” he says, and nods towards his head to his bedroom. He makes to walk towards it but winces with his first step.

Alec shoots him a concerned glare. He ducks slightly, then tucks himself under Magnus’ arm. When he stands to his full height, Magnus’ arm around his shoulders, Alec is tall and strong enough to pull some of Magnus’ weight off his feet.

Still, by the time they make it the bed, Magnus is exhausted. After Alec deposits him down, he sighs deeply and flops backward on the bed, sinking in the sheets. He closes his eyes against the light of the room. 

“Anyone I need to go hunt down?” Alec asks dryly.

Magnus chuckles lightly. “No,” he says. He peeks an eye open and grins at Alec. “I got them.”

Alec raises an eyebrow, toeing off his shoes and joining Magnus. “Them?”

Magnus nods tiredly. “A small clan of bleeder vampires. Fast fuckers. Ten, fifteen or so. Tried to _encanto_ me, too.”

“Ten? Fifteen?” Alec looks appalled. Then he scowls. “What’d they want you for?”

“Blood, I imagine,” Magnus says mildly. At Alec’s confused glance, he rolls his eyes. “What? Nephilim blood isn’t the only kind that tastes better than mundane.”

Alec grimaces. “Fine, it’s beside the point anyway. Are _you_ okay?”

Magnus tries to melt into the bed. He groans lowly when he fails. “I’m fine,” he says. “Just sore. I’ll heal it in the morning. My body needs rest first.”

Alec brushes Magnus’ hair out of his face. He smiles down at him, a little fond and a lot exasperated. “Why do you always downplay how much pain you’re in?” 

With a grumbling huff, Magnus closes his eyes again, this time against Alec’s piercing gaze. “Nothing I can do about it anyway. I’m just tired, Alexander.”

He leans into Alec’s hand where it’s brushing against his cheek softly. Alec’s thumb finds Magnus’ lips, grazing them so lightly that it elicits a small shiver. They’re quiet.

Then: “I wish I could heal you,” Alec whispers.

Magnus’ eyes flicker open, and he looks at Alec pensively. The Shadowhunter’s mouth is twisted, like he’s both unhappy at the situation and self-conscious about his admission.

“So do I,” Magnus offers, and Alec’s lips turn upwards again. 

After a beat, Alec’s face lights up with an idea. His hand slides down from Magnus’ face and onto the area where his neck meets his shoulder. He presses slightly, testing the waters. Magnus tenses for a moment before relaxing, and Alec continues.

He examines the area with only his fingers, not squeezing, but Alec’s strength is considerable, and with his knowledge of sore muscles, it’s still a decent massage.

To say it doesn't hurt would be a lie. But the best massages always hurt a little bit, especially when his muscles are drained and wrecked. Magnus tilts his head to the side, allowing Alec smoother access, and Alec takes full advantage.

Magnus isn’t sure how long passes before Alec’s hand stills. He’s nearly asleep when Alec stops. He sighs grumpily and hears Alec huff out a laugh.

“Turn over,” says Alec, and Magnus makes a slight noise of dissent. “No, come on, Magnus, let me get to the rest of you.”

Magnus glares at Alec without heat. “Fine,” he says petulantly, and then groans dramatically as he tries to rise off the bed.

Alec rolls his eyes and gently lifts Magnus up, careful not to jostle any of his limbs, and maneuvers Magnus onto the bed properly, so that his head is on a pillow and he’s on his stomach.

“Clothes off,” Alec prompts, and gets off the bed. In search of the massage oil, Magnus presumes.

Magnus waves his hand and feels his clothes vanish. The loft is a little chilly without clothes on, so he turns up the temperature a little bit.

Alec returns after a minute. Magnus turns his head to the side and watches him, sees how Alec looks at him appreciatively for a moment before climbing back on the bed.

He slides a hand down Magnus’ back first, from his shoulders to the curve of his ass, slowly appreciating the smooth skin and strong muscles there. Alec sits next to Magnus on the bed, the mattress dipping with his weight, and leans over him. Magnus hears more than sees Alec warm up the massage oil by rubbing his hands together. 

The moment Alec touches Magnus, the warlock can feel his eyes slipping shut contentedly. Alec is unbelievably good at this. It makes sense. Alec’s a practiced hand at bodily aches, of course, but it still catches Magnus by surprise every time Alec does this for him.

Alec starts off slow, just rubbing over the muscles in Magnus’ upper back. Like before, his fingers are strong enough to still make a difference, and Magnus moans lightly. It feels _so_ good, already.

“I can’t use an _iratze_ on you, or do anything I would normally do to heal,” Alec says, and it sounds like a confession. “But I can do this.”

Then, Alec starts pressing small circles into Magnus’ back, one for each of his fingertips. His thumbs dig into the areas along Magnus’ spine and draw outwards, stretching the sore and tight muscles there.

Eventually, at some point, after Magnus has lost track of time for the second time (he vaguely wonders if he’s actually falling asleep), Alec moves to straddle Magnus’ thighs. He’s careful not to place any heavy weight on his thighs, so Magnus’ is content as Alec runs his hands up and down his back with steady pressure.  

Magnus shivers and makes a small noise when Alec slides his hand through the oil on his back and spreads it over his shoulder and upper arms. His hands massage Magnus’ triceps for a little bit, then spend a long time focused on his neck. Although Magnus’ body protests any movement at all, it’s undeniable that Alec is helping relieve some of the pain.

Once again, he loses track of how long Alec works on his upper body. But soon, Magnus is feeling more relaxed than before, and his body isn’t one single unit of pain. Alec hasn’t even started on his legs yet, and Magnus feels fucked out, wrecked. His arms don’t feel attached to his body anymore, lying limply on the bed. He truly doesn’t know if he would be able to move if he tried.

As Alec digs his fingers into the point where Magnus head meets his neck, and Magnus groans throatily, his upper torso involuntarily arching slightly. When Alec runs his hands down Magnus sides next, it’s with slight pressure only, hardly an attempt at massaging anything specific.

Alec’s hands are on his waist when he bends over Magnus and noses at the short hairs next to his ear.

“You know what I love about this?” Alec asks. His voice is deep, husky, and Magnus shivers. “This body, and everything it can do. Everything _you_ can do with it.”

“Mmm,” Magnus moans softly.

“I think about it, you know,” Alec whispers, his breath hot against Magnus’ ear. “I think about how you could snap your fingers and rip me apart.”

Magnus holds his breath for a second, then exhales shakily. “Alexan—,”

“But you don’t,” Alec continues. “You take on fifteen vampires and then walk home, and let me see you like this.”

Alec’s hand brush softly over Magnus’ skin. Here and there, he presses harder, still working on his massage, even as he says:

“Pliant. Soft and passive.” Alec makes a humming noise, like he’s considering Magnus for the first time. “Laid out so perfectly. Just for me.”

Magnus can’t help his responding moan. There’s something about the way Alec reveres him. Not just him, the High Warlock, but him, _Magnus Bane_ , with his arms sore and his hair in his face, dead tired and vulnerable.

Alec thrusts his hips once, deliberate, and Magnus feels his bulge press against his ass. He hears himself whine, high-pitched.

Despite his exhaustion, Magnus can feel himself responding. He feels so relaxed and calm and safe, and now that Alec’s brought attention to it, it’s impossible to ignore how affected the Shadowhunter is.

Alec moves his hands even further down. He teases Magnus a little, thumbing little circles in the dimples at the base of his back. Magnus breathes heavily, shifting slightly on the bed in an instinctual search for friction, but Alec’s weight on his thighs prevents him from moving much.

Then, finally, _finally_ , Alec moves his hands down to Magnus’s ass, and he kneads at the flesh, and just as Magnus moans, Alec—

Alec stops abruptly. Magnus lets out a low whine in question. The Shadowhunter gets off Magnus’ thighs, but before Magnus can even think about taking advantage to thrust against the sheets, Alec is moving further down the bed.

He nudges Magnus’ legs apart carefully and kneels between them. At first, Magnus thinks Alec’s doing it to get to his hole, but then the Shadowhunter is running his hands down Magnus' thighs, away from where Magnus is anticipating.

Alec pauses for a second to get more massage oil, and then he uses both his hands to start massaging Magnus’ calves. He draws a strong line down the exact back of each, where the muscles have tensed up the most.

Magnus moans, shivers. He’s both more relaxed and keyed up by the second.

“You’re so beautiful,” Alec says, worshipful. He moves to Magnus’ feet, pressing his knuckles into the arch. It hurts, there’s no way it can’t, but after some slow massaging, it starts to feel good.

“A-Alexander,” Magnus manages, but that’s all he gets to before Alec is moving back up his leg.

Alec presses a kiss to Magnus’ thigh as he massages them. This is where Magnus is feeling the most fatigue, and Alec knows it.

He spends the most time here, de-stressing the muscles with steady hands while alternating between whispering sweet nothings and telling Magnus exactly what he wants to do to him. 

By the time Alec is done, Magnus is writhing, hard against the sheets where his cock has dripped a small damp spot of precum. He’s been steadily working upwards on Magnus’ thighs for a few minutes now, and Magnus feels like he could explode.

Then, Alec's hands reach the crease where Magnus’ ass meets his thighs. Alec’s hands are big enough that he can grab a large portion of Magnus’ thigh in each. And he does so now, kneading at this flesh right below Magnus’ ass and making the warlock squirm.

With his hands spread wide like this, Alec's thumbs a pressing into Magnus' inner thighs, so close to where Magnus wants Alec that it’s painful.

 _Finally_ , Alec brushes against Magnus’ perineum with a thumb. Magnus jerks, barely stifling a shout.

Alec doesn’t tease, after that. He’s rubbing over the pucker of Magnus’ hole before long, pressing at the rim almost experimentally. His fingers are still slick with the oil, so Alec is able to slip in fairly easily. It helps that Magnus’ body is as relaxed as it’s been in a long while. 

“Don’t tease,” he breathes.

Alec chuckles lightly. “I wasn’t planning to. But now—,”

He pushes the tip of a finger in and hooks it slightly, so that when he pulls it back out, it snags on Magnus’ rim. Magnus shivers. He turns his face into his pillow and groans loudly into it in complaint.

“Okay, okay,” Alec laughs.

He pushes the finger back in and doesn’t tease this time. After a few experimental thrusts, Alec pulls out, and next thing Magnus knows, he feels a cool liquid dripping down his crack, over his hole, and onto the bed below him.

Alec traces the path of the oil with a finger, and Magnus shudders with pleasure when he swipes over his hole. He grinds back towards Alec’s hand, and finally, Alec obliges him.

Alec pushes in again. There’s little resistance, especially now with the oil making his way slicker. He keeps going until his index finger is two knuckles in, then pulls out. Alec repeats, thrusting his finger in and out of Magnus.

It’s good, but it’s not _enough_. Magnus grits his teeth, frustrated, and can’t help the whine that escapes him. He thrusts slightly down into the mattress, but he’s too physically tired to really move his hips much.

“Dammit, Alexander,” he growls, and is answered with only Alec pressing a second finger in next to his first.

Magnus moans, plaintive. Alec makes quick work of loosening Magnus enough to easily accommodate both his fingers. He doesn't pull away when Magnus grinds back onto his fingers, so Magnus happily takes advantage, writhing for more friction.

“Look at you, Magnus,” Alec says. “You’re a slut for it.”

He crooks his fingers ever so slightly, not enough to apply pressure to Magnus’ prostate, but more than enough to tease. Magnus’ hips buck involuntarily, and he hisses in low pain.

Alec uses the hand not thrusting into Magnus to slap him (only somewhat) playfully on the ass. “Don’t hurt yourself. Undoing all my work.”

He splays a hand on the small of Magnus's back and presses down, effectively holding Magnus from bucking again. Or moving much at all, really. Magnus groans heavily as Alec crooks his fingers again. Even with just one hand, Alec continues to successfully hold Magnus down when his hips buck this time. Satisfied with Magnus’ immobility, Alec turns up the intensity.

He presses his fingers on either side of Magnus’ prostate, massaging the neighboring area with skill. Magnus shivers and rocks back as much as he can.

Finally, Alec takes pity on him. He uses one short nail to scratch lightly over Magnus’ prostate, and at the moment a shout is punched out of Magnus, Alec presses it directly with both his fingers.

Magnus’ shout becomes a strangled yell, almost animalistic. He’s so, _so_ turned on, and Alec’s hands have been all over him, and he’s wrung out, emotionally and physically and in every way possible. _This man_ , Magnus thinks feverishly, _is going to be the end of me_. 

Alec is relentless after that. He keeps up the pressure on Magnus’ prostate. Magnus’ cock is dripping steadily, and the damp patch of silk sheets under him is growing wetter at the same rate.

Alec toys with Magnus’ prostate directly, making Magnus keen loudly. He thrusts his fingers past it, then brushes over it as he pulls out. He deliberately pulls at Magnus’ rim every time he does so.

Magnus is a mess. He has no clue what he looks like, or what face he’s making as he pants into his pillow. But if anything like what he’s feeling, he’s sure he looks debauched. Utterly ruined.

Because that’s what Alec is doing to him. Magnus can’t even formulate the thought to describe it. He can’t move, can’t speak, can’t think. Can’t do anything but lay here and take what Alec gives him.  

“Alexander,” he realizes he’s moaning, and he has no clue what he’s asking for. More? Less? More, _way_ more? Harder or faster? Just, _Alexander_. “Please,” he whines.

Alec obliges, because Magnus might not know his question, but Alec already knows the answer. He increases the pressure on Magnus’ prostate and uses the same massaging motion he was using earlier.

He rubs his fingers in a small circular, crooking motion over Magnus’ prostate. Magnus is _so_ close. He can feel his orgasm on the horizon. Just a few more passes with that kind of pressure and he knows he’ll be gone.

Alec’s hand presses down even harder at the base of Magnus' back, and then abruptly, it’s gone. Magnus doesn’t even really register the absence until a moment later, when he hears the clink of Alec’s belt.

The touches to Magnus’ prostate don’t let up, and without anything to hold him down, Magnus’ hips buck, causing him a slight amount of discomfort. Before Magnus can even react to his own pain though, he feels heavy pressure on his upper thighs, right where they meet his ass.

Magnus realizes with a jolt that Alec has moved to kneel over Magnus’ thighs, with his knees bracketing Magnus’ hips and his shins pressing down to hold Magnus in place.

It’s so hot, being pinned down like this. Being enveloped by Alec, who’s here to help and give him pleasure and safety.

“Yes, Alexander,” he hisses.

“God, you’re so hot,” Alec says.

His voice is a little shaky, like he’s breathing heavier and gritting his teeth, and Magnus abruptly remembers the clink of Alec’s belt, a clear indicator of it being opened.

Under the noise of Alec’s fingers thrusting wetly into Magnus, Magnus can hear Alec jerking himself off, this hand slicked with the massage oil as well. Magnus turns his head to the side as far as he can, but he can’t see Alec. All he has is his imagination.

Imagining Alec, biting his bottom lip as he looks at Magnus naked body underneath him and watches his fingers disappear into his hole. Alec, with a reverent expression on his face, hardly even blinking as he takes in the sight of Magnus, shuddering in pleasure and covered with a light sheen of oil and sweat.

Magnus is vaguely aware of his own voice, chanting “Oh, oh,” over and over, every time Alec hits his prostate. Eventually, Alec’s rhythm starts breaking down, so he just keeps his fingers inside Magnus.

He massages Magnus’ prostate without letting up at all. The constant pressure is too much for Magnus. He feels himself rocketing towards his orgasm, too fast for him to contain it. Magnus swears he sees stars as he comes with a shouted cry, untouched except for the silky friction of the sheets on his cock.

Alec pulls his fingers out before it becomes too overstimulating. Between his own breaths, loud in his ears, Magnus can hear the wet sound of Alec working his own cock.

It’s not long before Magnus feels strips of warm come land on his back and ass, marking the wide expanse of his skin. Magnus moans, overtaken by a heady, consuming feeling.

Alec is panting above him, and Magnus is still breathing heavily himself. Both of them are otherwise silent, and their breaths are loud in the quiet room.

Magnus can feel himself slipping into sleep when he feels Alec’s hands spread across his back again. They work steadily, the same way as before, massaging the sore muscles like normal. So Magnus almost doesn’t realize the most important part.

But when he does, Magnus groans loudly. If he could get hard again, he would be close to coming again, just from this.

Alec is silent the entire time he massages the come into Magnus’ skin, spreading it across his back and marking Magnus as his. It’s a possessive, focused action, and Magnus feels himself shiver with something raw, akin to vulnerability.

Magnus thinks about saying something—Alec's name, maybe—but something about this silence feels sacred.

Eventually, Alec climbs off Magnus and lays down next to him. They look at each other, Magnus still on his front with his head turned sideways and Alec laying on his side.

Alec reaches out and brushes his knuckles from Magnus’s temple to his cheek. His eyes are wonderous and wide, like he’s understanding Magnus for the first time.

Magnus feels his lips curve upwards, and Alec returns a soft smile. After a few moments, he can tell that Alec is falling asleep, even as they look at each other, and Magnus watches him despite his bone-deep exhaustion.

Alec is devastating. Sometimes, Magnus gazes at Alec and feels like he’s breaking into a million pieces. They are struggle, he realizes. But they are also safety. They are also love.

He sleeps. In the morning, he will heal himself, and Alec will smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever write something and then it suddenly feels kinda malignant? Idk about this one, guys. There’s something about it that feels like… heartbreak and pining.
> 
> Would you believe I started this off without a single intention of anything remotely Dom/sub-y in it?
> 
> Also, I don't just read comments--I also check what tags or comments people write when they bookmark my works! So if you bookmark, add a lil something for me!! Makes my day. 
> 
> Anyway, dumb stuff aside. We all know that Clave saying, “The law is hard, but it is the law.” Well, that’s some real bullshit. Laws typically benefit society but are often used as excuses and smoke & mirrors to hide institutional moral corruption.
> 
> Please consider donating to RAICES: https://www.facebook.com/donate/490507544717085/10101990272230479/ 
> 
> As always! catch up with me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/inviq) or [tumblr](http://apartmented.tumblr.com). & i'm trying a new thing, idk. if you tweet or post about a fic of mine ever, try tagging/hashtagging: #aptAO3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] God, His Hands](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15176480) by [erica_schall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/erica_schall/pseuds/erica_schall)




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